


Sound of his Voice

by Illuminahsti



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Other, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, light exhibitionism, peter nureyev's dom voice, sort of a heist but it's really only there so the sex can happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illuminahsti/pseuds/Illuminahsti
Summary: Peter has to coach Juno through some very delicate work, and he uses his gentlest dom voice to do it. AKA Juno gets turned on by being told what to do.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 19
Kudos: 431





	Sound of his Voice

Juno was the one who found the computer room at the center of the ship. They had attached the Carte Blanche to the army carrier like a small parasite and released a soporific gas into the sleeping barracks. It took out 90% of the army while Jet, Juno, Vespa, and Nureyev all climbed aboard, searching for the control panel. The ship was left at idle in the asteroid belt, waiting for directions, and no one was prepared for an invasion.

It had been almost too easy. Juno had made it to the room while only seeing one guard, and he had ducked into a closet until she had passed, unaware.

Now he looked at the mess of cords and buttons and blinking levers and felt dizzy. He should not have been sent on this job.

“Shit,” he said.

"Juno?" Buddy's voice crackled over the comms.

"I'm in," Juno said, voice faint. "This is a hell of a security system."

He pressed the button on his image capturing glasses (better than having a camera in his eye socket), and slowly swept his gaze over the room. "You know anything about any of this?"

"Look at the back of the monitor," Rita said, loud enough that Juno heard her through Buddy's mouthpiece. When Juno didn't move, she said, "The screen. Turn the screen box around."

Juno obeyed. There was a number and a series of hieroglyphics laser-cut into the plastic frame.

There was a beat of silence.

"Is that Brahman?" Buddy asked.

"Dunno," Juno said.

"Don't worry about that, Captain A," Rita chirped, "It will only take me a minute to pull up a translator, and then I can tell you what it means. Just let me--"

"That's quite alright," Nureyev's smooth voice cut into Juno's ear. "I can speak Brahman, and it will cut out a step. Let me find a safe spot." Juno heard a strangled gasp, and then a wet thud. So there were guards awake somewhere on the ship.

"Let Rita--"

"No, no, I'm quite alright—" another thud— "Ah, a supplies closet, one moment." There was a tense second of silence, and then Nureyev's comms beeped back on.

"I'm hidden now. Visual feed commencing—yes, that's a complicated system. Look to your right, dear."

Juno took a guilty look over his shoulder, as if Buddy and Rita were in the room to hear Nureyev's soft pet names, and not simply listening in over their multi-directional phone call.

Juno obediently cast his gaze over the room again.

"Oh dear," Nureyev said softly.

"It ain't so bad," Rita said. "The serial number is from a model that was first made 11 years ago, so it hasn't been updated much. I can probably look up the specs if you just tell me the make. It should be the phrase that starts with a triangle and then a vertical squiggly thing."

"Of course," Nureyev said. "Juno, look at the top of the computer, please?"

Nureyev's gently commanding tone sent pleasant tingles up Juno's spine. He stepped closer, making sure to look directly at the brand logo.

"It's a StarScape model Z," Nureyev said. "Does that help?"

Their only answer was the sound of furious clicking.

"Rita?" Juno prompted.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Let me focus, boss, I'm downloading the whole database into my computer wirelessly and writing a virus that will wipe the hard drive after, so I really can't be handholding you through the rest of this."

"What is the rest of this?" Juno asked.

"I want you to take the ship offline," Buddy said. "Turn off the engines and turn the temperature down. I want it dead in the water."

"With me on board?"

"Jet and Vespa are already on their way back. As soon as Ransom's translation job is done, he will offload as well."

"And me?"

"I didn't tell you to make the ship deadly," Buddy said, voice gravelly with impatience. "Just make it so it can't pursue us. You'll get off with plenty of time, I assure you."

"Fine," Juno said. "Okay, Rita, where's the temperature gauge in this fucking maze."

Rita didn't answer, just made an angry little huffing noise. "I don't know why these stinkers thought they needed a Malthusian encryption and a pharaonic backdoor lock. It's not like they should have expected Rita to hack in, not out in the dark of space."

"Right," Juno said. "I'll leave you to it. Anyone else got a guess?"

"Vespa needs my help," Buddy answered. "I'm sure Ransom can help you turn the temperature down."

"Certainly," Nureyev said. "Juno, spin around slowly again?"

Juno did as he was told. Nureyev made a considering noise deep in his throat. Under other circumstances, Juno would have been worried by that noise. Now, the object of Nureyev's scrutiny was not him, but the control panel covered with more buttons and switches than there were sequins in Rita's entire wardrobe.

"Alright dear, I want you to walk forward and take a step to your left. Yes, good, now zoom in and see if that blue switch has a label on it?”

Juno leaned forward.

“Your glasses have a zoom feature,” Nureyev said, but his voice was still softly instructive.

“You want me to use the zoom feature instead of looking at the damn thing myself?”

Nureyev chuckled shortly, and then said, “Slide that orange knob all the way down.”

When Juno obeyed, a hologram screen popped up in front of him.

_You are about to reduce the ambient temperature to below the recommended safe zone. Do you want to continue?_

“Say yes,” Nureyev commanded.

_Heating system disengaged. Ambient temperature now only maintained by engine discharge. Do you want to continue?_

Juno hit yes before Nureyev could tell him to.

“Thank you, Juno,” Nureyev said. “Now, find the steering console please.”

"How the hell am I supposed to know what that looks like?" Juno snapped. 

"Now, Juno, don't get discouraged. I know you'll focus, because I asked you to."

Juno inhaled sharply and nodded, then realized all he was doing was disturbing Nureyev's view of the room.

"It should be to your left."

Juno turned his head.

"Yes, that's good," Nureyev purred. "Now, take the captain's chair and let me see the steering system. That's right, dear."

Juno scanned his gaze over the knobs, trying to keep his focus entirely on that and not on the tone of Nureyev's voice.

"I believe the steering is done by dual gear shaft," he said. Was Juno imagining it, or had Nureyev's voice pitched lower, more soothing? Heat curled at the base of his stomach.

Juno sat in the captain’s chair, which was plush synth leather and hugged his body. "This one?" He reached out and grasped the joystick that reached towards him on his right. There was another one on his left, darker and with a larger handle at the top. Both were in easy reach from his chair.

"Take both of them," Nureyev said.

Juno took the left hand gear shift too.

"The left one is for power," Nureyev said quickly. "The right is for steering. We're going to turn the ship and accelerate it into the empty part of the asteroid belt before we decouple."

"Got it," Juno said, then added teasingly, "just tell me what you want, handsome."

Nureyev laughed, and Juno's stomach flipped. "You always know how to excite a man. Now, slid your hand up the power shaft, and tell me what you feel."

Juno cleared his throat. "Hey, um, N--Ransom."

"Something wrong, goddess?"

Now Juno was sure Nureyev was winding him up on purpose. He only called Juno that in private. Despite Juno’s flirting a second before, he was suddenly nervous.

"You think you could, um--" he cleared his throat again, very conscious that Rita was still on the call. "Maybe um—tone down the voice a bit?"

"What's wrong with it, Juno?"

"You're using your…bossy voice on me."

That laugh again. Juno was going to kill him.

"I'm trying to talk you through something very delicate, my dear. Of course I will be careful to make sure you're obeying my every command."

"Yeah, but--"

"I've already taken Rita off of my call," he continued. "I wouldn't want to distract her from whatever virus she is currently working on."

"Oh," Juno said, voice shaky.

"So, do I have your permission to continue? If Miss Rita cannot hear me?"

"I guess," Juno agreed, not sure what he was agreeing to.

"That's good. Keep your answers to yesses and nos from now on. Can you do that for me?"

They were *not* negotiating a scene. They couldn't be. And yet Juno still felt flushed, felt a trembling in his thighs, felt warm despite the rapidly dropping ambient temperature.

"Yeah," he managed.

"Good. Now slide your hand up the power shaft until you grip the head. Do you see how to move it?"

"Yeah."

"With your left foot, press down on the clutch pedal." His voice should be illegal. Juno didn't know how it had gotten more sultry, deeper, but with every command Juno slipped further into his trance.

"Got it." Juno's voice was only getting breathier.

"Now drop the power clutch down, into second position. That's perfect, love. Is the engine picking up?"

"Yeah. It's--"

"Shh, no need to give me extra information. We may have ears listening in."

The engine was indeed picking up, sending rumbling vibrations through Juno's thighs and ass as the motor that he sat on whirred into life. He bit back a groan. Nureyev was enjoying this a little too much.

"Now I'll need you to steer. Take the shaft in your right hand and tease it into place."

"Ransom--"

"I'm afraid I can't think of any more precise vocabulary at the moment. You'll have to take what I can give you."

Juno gritted his teeth.

"Slide your hand up the shaft," Nureyev said. "You're looking for a button."

"There's just a ridge around the tip--" fucking hell, he was playing Nureyev's game.

"Press gently," Nureyev commanded. "You'll know the right spot."

"Yeah," Juno said, and then, "Found it."

"I knew you would, dear. You're much better at this than you give yourself credit for. Now, press the button down and steer gently, turning the whole craft to the right. Be sure to keep your grip firm--yes, I can feel the ship moving. You're doing so well."

"I'm going to lose it," Juno panted. He knew what Nureyev was doing, he knew it was teasing, but his scalp still tingled with the rush of his compliments.

"No, you'll hold on, because I need you to. Isn't that right?"

Juno took a steadying breath. "Yeah."

"Do you need a minute to collect yourself?"

He was hard just from the sound of Nureyev's voice, his soft commands turning Juno's legs to jelly. He had been trying not to think about it, but now that he had a moment, he was painfully aware, desperate to adjust himself where the head of his cock was pressed against the zipper of his pants. He spread his legs, unwilling to let go of either steering shaft.

"Just tell me what to do," he growled.

"Oh, love, I didn't mean to upset you." Nureyev's voice told Juno what a blatant lie that was. "We're going to go faster now, can you handle that?"

"Ransom--"

"Yes or no, love."

"Yes," he managed.

"Press the clutch again, and then bring the power gear into 4th position."

Juno pressed down on the clutch, jaw clenched, and then thrust the power into forth gear. The Engine roared to life under him, shaking through his thighs, between his legs, sending heat up to his chest, and he felt the craft move.

"That's good," Nureyev purred in his ear. "Now, thrust forward, we need more forward momentum."

Juno's skin lit up with electricity, teasing all the places the chair pressed against him, rumbling through him, and Nureyev's voice murmured to him, mostly nonsensical phrases—or at least, Juno hoped it was, because he was mostly focused on keeping the steering joystick steady while the whole craft accelerated around him.

"That's perfect, love. Don't stop, the thruster is at full blast."

"Ransom, I can't--"

"Is it too much Juno? Is something wrong with the engine?"

"Not that--"

"Ah," Nureyev said knowingly, and sounded so pleased with himself that Juno resolved to get extensive revenge as soon as they were truly alone. "I'm sure you can hang on a little longer. You're so skilled at handling the shafts, it's like you're a natural."

Juno grunted.

"Drop into fifth gear, please."

Juno did. The pressure around him got tighter, and he rocked his hips against the chair. The relief was instant, and it was all he could do to keep his breathing from giving away how stimulated he was.

"That's perfect, goddess. You're doing so well. You're making this very easy for me. Now, we're going as fast as we can go, and we don't have much time."

"What next?"

"You can take your hand off the gear shift, but keep the steering rod steady."

Juno's hand was tight as he pried his fingers off. He had been gripping it so tight his palm was pale, with dark pink lines where he had pressed into the metal seam.

"You can touch yourself, now," Nureyev prompted. “Keep your eyes straight ahead.”

Juno shoved his hand under his belt, not even bothering to undo it, and shifted his aching cock to a more comfortable position. He let out a little whimper at the sensation, then bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't look down, kept his gaze fixed on the little screen that told him their commandeered ship was currently hurtling through the blackness of space.

He rubbed in vain at his cock, trying to get a little relief but unable to make any noise.

"We're quite alone, Juno," Nureyev said, his voice flowing over his hot skin like honey. "Everyone else has gone about their own business, and we only have a moment. Tell me, how does it feel to be in the captain's chair?"

"Fuck," Juno groaned, and fumbled for his belt. "You sure?"

"Positive. Please tell me, Juno."

"The whole fucking seat is vibrating through me like it's designed to torture me," he growled. "And your voice, it's--you're a smug fucking bastard and I'm--ahh."

He got his pants open, his left hand around the base of his cock, and he dragged his palm up slowly, the friction such a relief it made him see spots. He dropped his head back, into the cushioned headrest, and continued working himself, fast and rough and desperate. He didn't have Nureyev's gift of staying coherent up until the end, and he only moaned as Nureyev continued to coach him.

"You did so good, love. Go on, a little faster now, and yell when you finish. You can't imagine how much I love to listen to you. I wish I could see you, all spread out, with your legs apart and waiting for my mouth--"

His legs weren't spread, he was still pressed up against the steering console, one hand on the joystick that kept the course steady, but his closed his eyes and let Nureyev's fantasy wash over him.

Buddy's voice crackled on to their call. "Vespa and Jet are on board,” she said. “Time for both of you to get going. Juno, you did good.”

“Um,” Juno said, his voice entirely flat, panic coursing through him.

“She only just reconnected the line,” Nureyev said, voice a whisper. “Now, bite down those delicious moans of yours and finish up.”

“I—”

“No,” he said firmly. “No argument from you. You can let go of the steering shaft and focus entirely on yourself.”

Juno let go and shoved that hand into his mouth and bit down. His movements were jerky, mechanical, but Nureyev’s voice was rough and desperate in his ear. “Let go, love. You did so well today, I want you to get a little reward. Once we’re alone together I’ll take care of you properly, I’ll finally get my mouth on you—”

Juno arched up, thighs tight as he tipped over the edge, his shout muffled by his hand. He took several deep breaths, but before he had come down, Nureyev’s voice cut through the haze, clipped and business-like.

“Thank you, Captain Aurinko, I can find my way out. Juno and I will meet up in the main lobby and rejoin the ship together.”

“Don’t take too long,” Buddy said. “Vespa’s knockout gas should wear off soon.”

“Don’t worry, we know how to be efficient.”

Juno wiped his hand under the desk that held the control panel and redid his pants, not trusting himself to speak. He remembered his way out—thankfully—and stumbled towards the exit, legs trembling.


End file.
